The big, buff blond waited at the bottom of the elevator. “Hey, y’all. Lord, give me that duffel, kiddo. You’re gonna collapse under the weight.”
He’d known Neil would offer to get Alain’s bag, which was why he hadn’t. “Hi.” It was tempting to kiss Neil’s cheek, but things with Neil were…complicated right now. Hell, Neil was complicated all the time. With Alain here, Isaac wasn’t even sure which Neil he was dealing with. The switch was really good at walking that middle line.
Sometimes they were friends, sometimes Dom and sub, sometimes one or the other with wild benefits. But he wasn’t everything Neil needed. That just wasn’t possible.
So, no kiss. Just a smile. “Thanks for coming.”
“Any time.” Neil didn’t look at him, just took the bag, and when Alain gasped, Isaac was totally surprised.
“Lord have mercy, what happened to you, Jole Blon?”
“Fistfight. I won.”
“Sure you did. You come from Texas.”
Won…and lost a week of work without pay. He wasn’t sure he’d call that winning. “Let me see, Neil.”
“It’s no big deal, Doc…”
Oh. Doc. That meant stitches.
“Fine. Take us home. I’ll look at it later.” He didn’t want to argue in front of Alain. Now that he knew Neil was hurt, he didn’t want to argue at all; in fact, he wanted Neil to answer his questions with “Yes, Sir.” But that was going to have to wait until Alain was tucked in. “Car?”
“Right here.” The big SUV was an extravagance, but Neil used it for work with the Special Victims Division, and at times like these, it came in handy.
They got Alain settled in the back seat and headed home. “Are you okay? Did you start it?”
“Seven stitches. He deserved it, and I’d do it again.” Neil’s lip curled. “I hate dirty cops.”
He sighed. “Neil. You can’t save the whole world by yourself.” How many times had he said that?
“You gon’ have a neat scar, Officer,” Alain murmured.
“I can try, though. I can sure as shit try.”
He rested a hand on Neil’s thigh and let it be. It was too soon; Neil was still too angry. “Alain’s right. You’re going to have a fancy Frankenstein scar.”
“You’ll check the stitches and make sure they’re right. You always do.” Neil’s huge, bruised hand covered his.
“I will.”I’ll take care of you.“Alain’s offered to make dinner tomorrow night. I hope you’ll join us.”
“Sure. I got no plans but watching TV in my apartment for a week. Whatcha cookin’, Cajun?”
“Couche-couche first, then whatever Mister Doctor Sir asks for.”
“Yeah? I ain’t had Cajun breakfast in ten hundred years.” Neil chuckled softly. “I don’t know that Doc has cornmeal or a cast iron skillet, kiddo.”
“Well, that might be the first thing we do tomorrow. Shopping. What do you think, boy? Are you ready to try some food shopping?” He thought maybe he had cast iron, but Neil did all the cooking in his kitchen, so he’d know better.
“Oh, yes, Sir. I know groceries. I can fix you all whatever.”
“I’ll leave the menu to you, boy.” Alain seemed happy to be going out. That was good. So tonight he’d deal with Neil, and tomorrow the boys would have a nice day. He glanced at Neil. “You know where to park.”
“I do. It’s almost like I’ve been here once before.” Someone was pushing hard, daring him to take control and give Neil what he needed.
“Then you know what to expect,” he replied. He didn’t snap, but his tone was a bit curt. Dry.Don’t test me in front of Alain, boy.Had he known Neil was going to be a handful, he might have handled his evening differently. But here they were, and he would deal it. He refused to let Neil ruffle his feathers while Alain was watching.
“I do.” Neil chuckled softly and parked the SUV. “I swear, my head’s so big I’m going to explode with a terrifying kaboom.”